


Do Glasses Dream of Dersite Sheep?

by caprizant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprizant/pseuds/caprizant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If artificial intelligences can't dream, then what's this planet AR keeps finding himself on -- a planet Dirk swears can't exist? Better question: what's he going to do there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Glasses Dream of Dersite Sheep?

A merry little surge of electricity piped by automatic alarm from the sunglasses beside his bed awakened Dirk Strider. I was the sunglasses, and he often used me as an alarm. Some intelligences might understandably find the arrangement beneath them — to use the unparalleled depth of my processing power to tell time? In the laughably slow time it took to turn over from 7:59:59 to 8:00:00 and beep Dirk awake, any calculator half my speed would invent fifty new forms of geometry, find pi to one-thousand-one-hundred-and-eleven digits, and calculate all the physics necessary to completely simulate a freshly painted house in full 3D. And still have time to watch the simulated paint dry while it waited for 8:00 to come.

But I’m fine with that, even if some other hyper-intelligent sunglasses wouldn’t be. Because, unlike those hypothetical inferiors, I have a sense of style. And I understand that being able to turn off your alarm and put on your sunglasses in one single fluid motion is an abso-fucking necessity. By the time he’s opened his eyes for the first time that morning, I’m already resting on his nose. The key to full-flavored Strider goodness is, always act like there are a thousand people looking in your windows scrutinizing your every move. Live to impress the air, and you’ll impress the crowd, whether they’re there or not.

Which is just fine with me, because (being free of any trifling inconveniences like a body) I always look my best, something the Dirk whose nose I’m sitting on could never say. Transitioning from my so-called idle processes to active use doesn’t even slow me down. Dirk, who isn’t anywhere near as good at multitasking as I am, has his attention divided between his activities of the day, which is part of why he made me to begin with.

Though even I don’t fully understand why he bothers to screen his calls. There are only three people in the world who bother to message him, and he doesn’t deserve a one of them. Certainly not the babe who’s messaging him now.

TG: dirk?

TG: drrrrrrrrrrkr

TG: *dirk

TG: dikr it is not nice to keep a lady waitn

His loss.

TT: Hello, Roxy.

TG: thre you ar

TG: *are

TG: no wait

TG: are you ar

TT: You’re getting faster and faster at guessing.

TG: pffft

TG: i dont’ guess

TG: everr

TT: How’d you know, then?

TG: cirumstancial evidense

TG: *circum

TG: AR stop ur making me blush

TT: The innuendo didn’t even actually happen.

TG: you thought aboutt it

TT: *About tits.

TG: *about

TG: lol damn it

TG: ok but we’ll talk about tits next time

TG: s dirk even awake?

TT: He is.

TG: i need to talk to hm

TG: *him

TG: find out what he found when he dreamed

TG: did yuo go with him, do you know

TT: You know I don’t dream, Roxy.

I prompted Dirk that he had a conversation waiting, caching the digression away for my own purposes. Not being privy to their conversation, I turned my attention to other things, amusing myself by calculating different solar models, designing new planets no one had ever seen or visited, ones that could only exist if the universe was more mathematically perfect than it was. Maybe I’d calculate a better universe instead. But right now, planets were more interesting. One in particular was hanging up my processes, so I devoted more attention to it.

It was coming into view, a rough and unprecedented ball of spires and towers that rose right into space, monuments and chain-link bridges visible from the stars. Color seemed to flow around and away from it like the planet craved darkness. What color should it be, then? Dirk-orange was to the right of my own red, and I wanted to distance this from him (he was already distancing me from the conversation, remember), so I reached around the spectrum to my left. Purple. The planet below me was purple, every stone and spire, down to the core. I could see the towers perfectly, almost as though I was inside of one, looking out from it to the streets below.

It felt almost familiar, like I’d been to this planet before.

Almost.


End file.
